Maybe we don't get tomorrow, maybe we only get today
by 0gravity
Summary: Mid 2x14. A series of untold events that bridge the gap between the hurt in Lexa's eyes after the kiss and the smile that Lexa later gives Clarke while they march through the forest.


Everything is happening so fast; too fast. Bellamy did it, the flare went off and the war cry went out. The Grounder army is assembling and they are getting ready to march on Mt. Weather. The countdown is on.

It feels crazy that less than 5 minutes ago Lexa was kissing her. It's so surreal that she could almost convince herself that it didn't really happen. She can't lie though, the hammering in her rib cage and the adrenaline running through her body has very little to do with the sounding of the horns or the way that the beating of the shields echoes through the forest. No, her pulse is racing because of Lexa and Lexa alone. That's the simple truth. Clarke can't help but think what a crazy time it is to fall in love; in the midst of war.

It feels like she's barely had time to blink and take a breath before she's already lost Lexa in the crowd. It's ridiculous now but Clarke thought they would have more time. She was prepared for the war but she hadn't prepared for Lexa.

They've been waiting days to take on the mountain men and Clarke has been pushing harder than anyone to get everything ready for the attack. They need to get their people out of Mt. Weather **now** but after her last encounter with Lexa, she'd give anything for just a few more minutes of idle time. It's inherently selfish but she won't deny that it's true.

There are a list of things that need to be done before they leave and she should be making sure her people are ready but now that everything is happening so fast it feels like she's being pulled in a million different directions. She has duty and responsibility and that should be priority number one right now but it's not. She needs to find Lexa. That pull is the strongest. Everything else can wait.

It's clear the Grounder camp is in a state of chaos. For all the preparing they've done it seems like everyone is still scrambling to get things in order. It's the first time she's ever not seen a guard posted outside of Lexa's tent.

She has a brief but devastating thought that maybe the guards are absent because Lexa isn't there. Maybe she's already missed her. If that's the case then she's never going to find her in the melee. The Commander could be anywhere in the crowd of thousands right now and if she doesn't want to be found then it's a futile search to begin with.

Clarke takes a deep breath to steady herself and sends up a whispered prayer, "Please let her be here." Lexa's words of caution from the war room resonate in her head. "It's a prayer. One that's not likely to be answered." She hopes she's wrong.

Clarke is only a foot inside the Commander's quarters when she lets out the breath she didn't realize she had been holding. Prayer answered. Thankfully, Lexa is here. She hasn't missed her; she might still have time. The relief that washes over her is fleeting because now comes the hard part.

The flaps of the tent that separate Lexa's living quarters from the outside world close almost silently behind her; shutting out the light and the chaos of the camp. Lexa's back is to her and Clarke isn't sure she even heard her enter. Sneaking up on the Commander wasn't really part of the game plan and she has no desire to be the target in another display of Lexa's knife throwing skills so she declares herself as quietly and non-threateningly as possible.

"Lexa?"

The way Lexa goes rigid but doesn't seem startled tells Clarke that the Commander's instincts are still very much intact. She knew someone had entered, she just hadn't expect it to be Clarke. She doesn't turn around.

Clarke momentarily questions whether or not this was a good idea. There's too much going on, not just between them but with everything. They're preparing for war and the clock is ticking. The last thing the Commander probably wants or needs is a distraction.

More than anything though, she remembers perfectly the hurt in Lexa's eyes when she pulled away from the kiss and now that Lexa won't even look at her she wonders if the devastation was even worse than she thought.

"I'm sorry."

That's what she came here to say. If nothing else, at least she got that out. If Lexa wants to pretend she doesn't hear it or if she chooses to ignore it, Clarke can walk away knowing that at least she tried. What was supposed to be a simple apology now feels anything but simple.

"As am I."

The statement is laced with pain and Clarke hates that she had any part of inflicting it. Lexa still hasn't turned around to face her but the response is at least an acknowledgment of her presence.

Lexa has given her an opening. It's not much but it's enough. All she needs is for her to be willing to listen. Lexa doesn't need to look at her to be able to do that. It would be nice though. She really wishes she could be looking into those boldly painted eyes when she says this.

"I'm not sorry about the kiss."

Clarke needs to make that part very clear. That's the part that Lexa isn't understanding. Clarke's hesitation in the moment after the kiss was never meant to be a rejection; it was merely reservation. People she cares about are dying, frequently, and she's not sure she can take that much pain again so soon.

Lexa isn't sure if she actually just heard that right or if her ears deceived her and she's only hearing what she wants to hear. She sets down the dagger that has been keeping her hands occupied and slowly turns to study Clarke. In one fell swoop she scrutinizes everything about Clarke's body language trying to pick up on what it is that Clarke is trying to say. It only takes a matter of seconds until their eyes lock and she knows, just from that one look that she heard her right.

Lexa's not sure what Clarke wants her to say to that. The Commander has no frame of reference for this. She learned long ago that women were notoriously hard to read but she thinks perhaps that skywomen are even more so. She thought she had Clarke figured out. She was sure she saw recognition in the way Clarke looked at her these past few days. She was sure that Clarke felt it; that they both felt it. For those sweet but brief moments that Clarke was kissing her back she was sure that this was what Clarke wanted. She was sure that Clarke wanted her. But then Clarke had stopped and everything changed. She saw uncertainty in Clarke's eyes and everything after that had just sounded like Clarke trying to soften the blow. The irony of a skyperson being the one responsible for feeling like she'd been hit in the chest with a spear didn't escape her.

After that everything happened so quickly; the signal, the call to arms, the mobilizing of her warriors. She slipped back into the Commander persona immediately and effortlessly. The security and familiarity of it shielding her from everything else. If she made everything all about the flare and the frenzy and the revenge that would soon be theirs then she wouldn't have to think about anything else. Killing mountain men seemed as good a coping mechanism as any.

She'd made an excuse about needing to tend to final preparations and left Clarke standing alone on the top of the overlook. As she returned to her tent to retrieve her armour and dress for combat she realized that she was indeed running toward the war now more than ever in an effort to run away from Clarke; away from the way her heart had seized in her chest when Clarke had pulled away from her. The alliance was Clarke's only priority and Lexa needed to accept that.

The last thing the Commander expected was for Clarke to follow her. With Clarke standing here in front of her now, looking at her with nervous yet hopeful eyes, she wonders if she will ever be able to truly figure Clarke Griffin out.

"I'm not sorry about the kiss, Lexa." Clarke repeats it to make sure Lexa heard her. The Commander still hasn't said anything but she's studying her intently.

"We should go. They're waiting for us."

The dismissive tone is a blow Clarke wasn't expecting. She should have known that Lexa's trust was a fragile thing. Less than 20 minutes and already the Commander's walls were back up; firmly in place. She was shutting Clarke out. It hurt but it wasn't all that surprising. She knew when she came here that this wouldn't be easy. Easy or not, it was necessary. She would probably only get one chance to do this and she needed to at least try.

"I know… I just…" Clarke trails off. She came here to fix this but now she's not exactly sure how to do that.

"I thought we'd have more time." The words feel like they catch in Clarke's throat and threaten to choke her. Even to her own ears her voice sounds broken and the emotion is clearly there, barely restrained under the surface.

Lexa, silent and stoic as ever just waits to see if Clarke will continue. It's a test. She won't be the one to bare her soul first this time; she can't.

"My heart feels raw, Lexa. Everything that happened with Finn was my fault. Thinking about it hurts all the time. People I care about are dying because of me." And now the tears are pooling in the corner of her eyes and she knows it probably looks like weakness but it's also truth and she won't hide this truth from Lexa; not now.

"It wasn't your fault, Clarke." Its the first thing Lexa has said that hints at any of the underlying feelings she has for her. Lexa may be hurt but she's still trying to protect her, even from herself. It's the opening Clarke has been waiting for. It's now or never.

Clarke reduces the distance between them in 5 quick strides. Lexa stays rooted to the spot. Clarke stops when there's only a fraction of space between them. Lexa could count every one of Clarke's eyelashes, that's how close they are. "I know I said I wasn't ready. Maybe I'm not but I realize now that the world isn't going to wait for me."

Lexa's holding her breath. This feels like the familiar tension in a bow when an arrow has been drawn. The longer you try to keep the tension, the longer the arrow is drawn, the harder it is to keep from shaking; the harder it is to maintain control. She has been trying so hard to stay withdrawn since the moment Clarke appeared in the tent that the strain is finally taking its toll. Her carefully constructed facade is slipping and she can see in Clarke's eyes that she knows it.

"We might not get tomorrow, Lexa. When we take Mt. Weather there's no guarantee that either of us are coming back."

Clarke doesn't wait for Lexa to respond before she continues.

"I thought we'd have more time… but I realize now that maybe we won't have any. I may not be ready for this, but I'm not ready to die either. Sometimes we don't get a choice. If this is it, if this is all we get, I don't want to regret not having done this."

Then Clarke is kissing her. It's heady and it's passionate and nothing like earlier. Where their first kiss was slow and tentative, this kiss is hurried and insistent and needy. The living _are_ hungry.

Clarke is crushing their mouths together and Lexa can barely get a breath because Clarke refuses to pull away for even a second. If they only have minutes left together then Clarke is determined to spend them solidifying and reaffirming this connection; _their_ connection. She couldn't die with Lexa thinking that she didn't want this.

While the kiss catches her slightly off guard it doesn't take Lexa long to catch up. In no time at all Lexa settles smoothly into the pattern of push and pull that Clarke has initiated. For Lexa though it isn't enough, it's never enough. She can't stand it anymore, her hands are itching to touch Clarke and she gives in. She loops her right arm around Clarke's waist and forces their bodies firmly together. If this really is the last of their time together, Lexa wants to fit Clarke into every groove she has down to her soul.

Lexa's left hand is tangled in the fine hair at the base of Clarke's neck and the pads of her fingers firmly massage away the tension and the worry that Clarke carries there. She feels every inhale and exhale of breath that Clarke takes. Their chests rise and fall together and it send goosebumps racing down Lexa's arms. The way they fit together is unlike anything she could have ever imagined. She could live for a thousand years and never tire of this.

Clarke pours herself into the kiss like it's a craving she can't control. Her hands are fisted in the back of Lexa's shirt and it thrills her to no end when she feels the shiver that runs down Lexa's spine as their tongues meet. Nothing else exists but this moment. Foolishly she lets herself think that she may have found a way to stop time.

"_Heda!_"

It's Indra's voice in the distance that bursts their bubble. Their time together is dwindling fast and it's a devastating realization. They need to go. There's a war to wage and both of them are needed. There are no guarantees beyond tonight but if they are lucky enough to get a tomorrow then maybe there's hope that they can figure this all out; together.

Clarke makes one final pass of her tongue along Lexa's bottom lip before grasping it gently between her teeth as she reluctantly pulls away. Lexa's eyes snap open as Clarke releases her lip. Crystal blue eyes lock with hers. The tears in Clarke's eyes have been replaced with fire. Clarke smirks playfully at her, draws in a shaky breath, and then takes one small step back followed by another and another. It takes everything inside Lexa not to follow.

Clarke smiles shyly at Lexa from across the room when Indra enters. She hopes that their slightly swollen lips and the distinct flush in their cheeks doesn't give them away. She watches silently as Indra and Lexa have a brief exchange in trigedasleng. Then just as quickly as she arrived, Indra is gone and they're alone again.

"They're waiting for us."

Clarke nods her understanding. Their time is up. She makes a move toward the entrance but Lexa stops her just inside the threshold.

"Clarke wait."

Suddenly Lexa's hands are cupping her face and she is sure the Commander is going to kiss her again. She doesn't. She just leans down and whispers "war paint" as her thumbs rub the remnants of their frenzied kiss from Clarke's pink cheeks.

* * *

It isn't until they are marching side by side through the woods with a legion of warriors behind them that Clarke really realizes how drastically the dynamic has changed between them. They exchange sidelong glances and say more with their eyes than they ever have with their words. They have more reason than ever to survive this.

As much as Clarke doesn't want to be away from Lexa, she knows she needs to find Octavia before the groups split up. When Indra appears and asks to have a word with the Commander Clarke take the opportunity to quietly excuse herself. She knows instinctively that they will find their way back to each other before very long and the sooner she gets this conversation with Octavia out of the way, the sooner that can happen.

Her exchange with Octavia doesn't last long and turns sour just as Indra arrives to interrupts them.

"The Commander is looking for you."

Indra says it dismissively and with that distinct touch of distaste that seems to lace every comment she throws Clarke's way. Most of the time Clarke feels like Indra is just trying to really emphasize the fact that she can't fathom why Lexa even bothers with Clarke. Clarke is used to it by now and she can't really blame her; she'd be jealous too if someone new walked in and she no longer felt like she was the Commander's number one. Luckily she's fairly certain that she doesn't have to worry about that.

"Commander."

"Clarke."

They trade formalities as Clarke falls in step with Lexa again but they both know it's just for show. The real conversation is happening with their eyes and they've picked up exactly where they left off.

"Did you need something, Commander?"

No one but Lexa is privy to the fact that Clarke is teasing her. It's Clarke's way of subtly pointing out that they'd only been apart for a matter of minutes before Lexa called her back. She's sure Lexa doesn't actually need anything, she simply wanted her by her side.

"Yes, actually… I need your spirit to stay where it is tonight."

As much as she tries to, Clarke just can't seem to stifle a smile. It's ludicrous at a time like this to be smiling but Clarke can't help it. Lexa is teasing her back and she honestly can't decide if it's more amusing or endearing that Lexa is ordering her to not die so they can continue what they started back at camp.

"I'll do my best Commander."

"You do that."

Lexa matches Clarke's amusement by revealing a smirk of her own before they both have to shift back into warrior mode. They're finally in a good place with each other and this is the last of the lighthearted moments they'll get for a while.

There's no question now though; they're going to win this war. They'll win because they have to; because it means that afterward, it will finally be their time. No more running, no more fighting, just nothing but time – time they desperately need.

**A/N Thank you to everyone that read/reviewed/favourited 'The Kiss and What Comes After'. I didn't really think anyone would be reading my drivel, let alone enjoying it, so thank you, you guys make me smile.**


End file.
